


Dawn

by Daughter_of_the_Mountains



Series: Nadadel [13]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-08 15:59:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5503892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daughter_of_the_Mountains/pseuds/Daughter_of_the_Mountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gróin visits. Óin experiences parental fear. Something of priceless worth is taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dawn

This night, his dreams take him to his father. He is remembering his da and thinking how he used to be when suddenly he goes to sleep. In his dream, his father holds him as he always had. Glóin focuses on his father's face, his freckles, his thick red brows and those eyes, brighter than topaz, bluer than sky. "I miss you, Da," he says. Oh, he does. This dream is so real that he wonders if he has actually dreamed the death of his father and mother and waking in his father's arms is reality. He hopes so.

"Be careful, little ruby." Gróin murmurs. His mouth remains still. "Be so careful. You don't know."

"But I do. He's not bad, Da!"

"You don't know. My children mustn't run with thieves. You don't know."

"What don't I know?"

"That I will despise you forevermore if you bring dishonour to our line." Gróin says coolly and this is how Glóin knows that he is dreaming. His father would never say this to him. Nobody in Durin's line would say this to their son or daughter. He manages to pull himself away from this cruel, cold dream-father and awakens. He shivers, suddenly cold and curls up. He's not tired anymore and he gets up and puts his coat on. Maybe he can find Fóli. His brother might still be angry with him. Carefully, he makes his way downstairs before remembering that the latch of the door makes a terrible creaking noise which will surely awaken Óin. He sighs and looks goes back up to his room, looking about, and then he sees it.

His bedroom window. It is narrow, but he thinks he may be small enough to slip through. He opens it, it creaks but softly. Good. He places a foot on the windowsill and eases himself up. So far, it's going well. He sits on the sill and places his feet on the roof tiles. They are cool, but warm still from the hot sun. The night air is warm and refreshing. He works out what appears a safe way to climb down and manages to slide down, cling to the edge and drop. He smiles to himself. His brother will _never_ need to know.

With this cheerful thought in mind, he goes to find Fóli.

* * *

 

Óin awakes around three. He can't hear anything from next door. He sighs. He's not overly fond of bossing his brother about, majorly because he doesn't like being bossed about, himself. He remembers how aggrieved his brother was and feels almighty stabs of guilt tear through himself. But it is the lesser of two evils. Glóin might be upset with him for a time, but in the long run it will keep him safe.

All the same, he gets up and goes to his room. If his brother is awake, maybe they can talk. If not, at least he is resting. But he will stay with him. Luckily, he has today off. Perhaps they can go to the woods to collect healing herbs together. Or visit the marketplace. Maybe both. He's thinking through the plans as he looks around his brother's room when he realises something with a jolt of panic.

Glóin is missing.

Biting his lip, he opens his wardrobe door, looks beneath his bed, even pats down the bed and looks behind the curtains, but there is no sign. He stands by the window, running his hands through his pale golden tresses in panic when a movement catches his eye. He looks out the window and jumps back in shock.

For a pair of dark eyes, twin to his own, stare into his.

* * *

 

He did try to escape, but hadn't managed to move fast enough. So he'd gotten caught and then and then...

 Well, putting it mildly, he's 100% sure he will never sit again and he's putting sticky glue in his brother's mittens to provide padding. He is.

But his brother isn't angry now. He's comforting and gentle, even though he won't apologise for walloping him. Still, he tries to get some sympathy.

"I'm sorry you're hurting, but you would've hurt a lot more if you'd fallen off the roof."

"I wasn't on the _roof."_

"You were clambering about, barely clinging to the house. And it was near the roof. You're lucky I'm not Da, he would've gone on for much longer than I did."

"You're mean."

Óin kisses his forehead. "I don't intend to be mean. But I could've been meaner."

"Nadad?"

"But, I won't. I could never be much meaner." Óin pauses. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"I only wanted to see Fóli."

Óin sighs. "Nadadith.. I wouldn't be so upset if you'd only gone to see him in the morning by walking through the door. But you snuck out, at night, through the damn window of all things! If our roles were reversed and I went through the window, and left without telling you and gave you a huge fright, would you let me off?"

Glóin shakes his head. "No."

"No indeed."

"But you just walloped me because I went out the window and because I scared you?"

"The first one. I don't give a damn if you scare me unless you scare me by disappearing and doing mad things. You terrified me, you little sod."

"I'm sorry."

"I've forgiven you. I'll always forgive you."

"Brother?"

"Hmm?" Óin rests his chin on his head.

"I don't want to argue." Glóin admits quietly. "But he's my friend!"

Óin doesn't say anything for a short while. He lowers his head and drops a kiss to his brow. Then he leads him out of his room and downstairs.

* * *

 

He's only just recalled that his brother didn't come down for dinner last night. He didn't eat either, but now seems as good a time as any to try and get his nadadith fed. He's at that horrible age wherein his body will drop a pound in weight if it isn't fueled enough.  
So he takes his little brother downstairs to the kitchen and cuts some bread and asks him to butter it while he gets some cheese and cold chicken out. He boils up some water and makes tea.

"Hopefully you'll drink this.. Nadadith, sit, it doesn't hurt that much!"

"Cruel nadad." Glóin mutters as he slowly edges himself into his seat.

Óin fights not to roll his eyes and waits for his brother to choose what he wants. They eat in silence and Óin can't help smiling at the speed his nadadith devours what he has on his plate. He was the same himself not long ago. 'A bottomless pit with an endless appetite", their Da had once called him.

Once they've both finished, he notices a slight pained look in his brother's eyes. "Nadadith?"

"I had a dream." Glóin mumbles. "It woke me up.

Sometimes he wakes up to feel soft shudders and shivers beside him. Strange how his vocal little brother can be so quiet when afraid. Óin holds his hands gently. "A dream?" Dreams are very important. They can bring premonitions and predictions of both good and ill natures. Missus Lazuli is teaching him about dream interpretation and he wonders about what this dream foretells, if anything.

"I was with Da. He was alive and well. He..."

As his brother trails off, Óin squeezes his hands. "Go on."

"He said I didn't know. I didn't know. He said that his children must never run with thieves-"

Óin frowns slightly. Da had only ever said that his children weren't to become thieves. He hadn't mentioned being friends with them. "Anything else, little brother?"

"He said if I dishonoured the line, he'd hate me."

Óin blinks. "He could never hate you! That wasn't him, nadadith."

"But it was! Every detail was right. He was the one speaking, but his mouth was still."

Óin thinks. "Fathers are authority figures... If he was angry with you, it might be because you did or planned to do something he wouldn't approve of. Seeing people who have passed on is usually a sign of things that have, will or are going to happen." He looks at his brother who blinks at him, nibbling his lip. "Listen to Adad. If you receive no more dreams then you know you made the right choice."

"There's nobody else here. No one to be with. No one close to my age. And no Dwarf lets his daughter go with some boy, even if he knows him well."

"You could go and play with Abzunde's son. She has a one year old baby, don't forget. I'm sure she'd love to get one off her hands."

"I'm not a babysitter! And he's 34, a little boy."

"You could take him to the Trees. You haven't been there in a while."

"What if he runs off?"

_"You're_ not so scary, you egotistical little brat." Óin teases.

"Not as scary as you."

Óin purposely pulls a 'scary' face. It used to leave his brother in fits of giggles and even now it makes him laugh.

"A vast improvement!" Glóin says, beginning to snicker.

"You cheeky little shite! Do you want to curl up together or are you still mad with me?"

Glóin shakes his head. "I don't want to be alone."

Óin smiles at him. "Come on, then. Let's go to bed. I'm sure your bad dream won't return!"

* * *

 

In a different household, a young Dwarrowdam awakes. Her name is Ëkna and she has been blessed with an infant daughter after her husband's disappearance in the woods eleven months previous. Part of him had been found and an even greater part of him survived. Their daughter is teething and is not enjoying the experience. "Qlîna.." Ëkna grumbles softly. "Shh, my little angel. Shh.."

While she soothes her howling daughter, she never notices the quick figure darting toward her firstborn child, her son Bâqil's chambers.

She never even hears her son's window open and close.


End file.
